History – Kintbury and Beyond

West Woodhay: A downland village in a changing agricultural landscape

This post is in two parts. In the first part, I consider the village of West Woodhay from a changing historical perspective. For the second part, we are delighted to have a contribution from Harry Henderson of West Woodhay Farms in which he describes the recent changes in agricultural practices which have enabled vitally important regeneration of the land.

On the road to nowhere in particular, the hamlet of West Woodhay is situated in the extreme south of West Berkshire just below the North Hampshire downs, a little over two miles south of Kintbury as the crow flies.

The Road to West Woodhay: Des Blenkinsop via Creative Commons

Although a motte is all that remains now of a twelfth century hunting lodge, today the village is probably best known for the elegant grade one listed West Woodhay House and also the grade two listed St Laurence’s church with windows by Morris & Co.

Early censuses show that most of the population were engaged in agriculture during the nineteenth century; early maps of the village suggest there has been little if any development, so, on the whole it might be presumed that very little of any great note has ever happened here. However, the effects of very significant changes in agricultural practices can be traced in the history of this village and the surrounding area.

The eighteenth century saw many developments in agriculture, enabling increased food production necessary to feed the growing population. Whilst innovations in agricultural machinery, such as the horse drawn seed drill developed by Jethro Tull of Prosperous Farm, near Hungerford, made the cultivation of larger fields much easier, this had a downside for thousands of rural labourers.

Since medieval times, many rural families had cultivated strips or patches of land, often dotted around their parishes, relying upon what they could grow to feed their families. However such a system was useless for food production on a large scale. The 1773 Inclosure Act enabled the Lords of the Manor or other land owners to enclose the diverse patches and strips of land, creating large fields each devoted to one particular crop and of the size that could be cultivated using new machinery. Whilst this might have been good news for the markets, it was devastating for many who lost their ability to grow their own food.

The effects of the 1773 Act were not felt straight away although it was eventually to change the face of the English countryside.

The Hampshire Chronicle of July 1816 reported that an Act of Parliament had been passed for the inclosure (sic) of Woodhay Common. However, “the labouring poor in that neighbourhood have lately shewn strong symptoms of their disapprobation and at length proceeded so far as to collect in considerable numbers with the avowed intention of preventing the farmers ( to whom it had been allotted ) from breaking it up.”

Fearful of trouble, the authorities called out military back-up which arrived in the form of the “Donnington and Newbury Troop under the command of Capt. Bacon” and also “Oxford blues ( who had been sent from Maidenhead )”

It is hard to believe that anyone would have felt it necessary to employ the military to prevent any sort of a riot in such a quiet and peaceful corner of the county. It is hard to imagine troops, not just from nearby Newbury but also from Maidenhead, well over a day’s ride away, descending on the village. Insurrection is not something you would associate with West Woodhay.

However, due to the “spirited exertions of constables” the military were not required although several of those involved in the protest were bound over to appear at the Quarter Sessions.

Enclosures were not the only things to make life increasingly difficult for the rural poor. Harsh game laws meant the penalty for catching rabbits for the pot could be transportation and poor harvests in the 1820s resulted in increased prices, particularly for bread.

William Cobbett was a writer and campaigner born in 1763 to a Hampshire farming family. Critical of the way new laws impacted upon the rural population, in 1821 Cobbett set out on a series of “Rural Rides” to observe for himself the situation throughout the midlands and south of England. Amongst other things, Cobbett was critical of the amount of money the country was spending on defence rather than on improved conditions for the rural poor. One of those of whom he was particularly critical was Berkshire M.P. and Kintbury resident, Charles Dundas. A prominent and influential figure, Dundas would have been well known across local towns and villages.

Although it is not always easy to work out Cobbett’s exact route through the countryside, it is clear from reading his work that he travelled across North Wiltshire and into Berkshire, stopping at Newbury on October 17th.

Whilst at a public dinner in Newbury, Cobbett took the opportunity to call out Dundas’s false accusation that he, Cobbett, was complicit in a plot to assassinate the Prime Minister and members of the cabinet. Known as the Cato Street conspiracy, those involved were eventually either executed or transported. For Dundas to accuse Cobbett of complicity was a particularly serious slur and something which reflects how polarised political views were at this time.

Later, Cobbett observed that “a good part” of the wheat offered for sale at Newbury market was wholly unfit for bread flour. Considering the importance of bread in the diet of poorer people, this must have led to severe consequences locally.

Not everything Cobbett observed as he rode through the downland was negative, however. At one point as he rode across the downs, he observed, “immense flocks of sheep which were now ( at ten o’clock ) just going from their several folds, to the downs for the day..”

The “immense flocks” aside, there was, as Cobbett noted, little to impress in the daily lives of the agricultural workers. Enclosures, the rising cost of bread and harsh laws which mitigated particularly against rural people, and changes in agricultural practices such as the introduction of mechanisation made life for the agricultural worker extremely difficult. The bad harvest of 1830 was the tipping point, leading to what became known as the “swing riots” which broke out in December of that year.

Although most of the protests in this part of West Berkshire were centred on and around Kintbury, West Woodhay did not escape the disorder. Here, Cornelius Bennett and Henry Honey were charged with robbery although both were subsequently acquitted. However, shock waves must have rippled across this part of Berkshire when it was reported that others of the rioters had been charged at Reading Assizes with several transported to Australia and one executed for his involvement.

In the following years, however, the agricultural industry in England generally was thriving. But this was not to last and by the 1870s it was in depression. By 1893 an anonymous contributor wrote to the Newbury Weekly News:

“There are thousands of acres not tenanted at all, and scores of landlords only too anxious to let on almost any terms.”

He continues:

“The real cause of agricultural depression is very easy to find, but very difficult to remedy. It is because the enormous development of steam navigation has brought the millions and millions of foreign acres into practical proximity to our shores and accompanied by a full market has made England a central emporium of a huge percentage of the surplus produce of the world.”

Throughout England, the numbers of people engaged in agriculture, particularly as labourers, declined as many sought better paid factory work in towns and cities. In West Woodhay, the 1851 census records William Taylor of West Woodhay farm as employing 15 labourers. By 1861 the farm has been taken by an in-comer from Buckinghamshire, Job Wooster, who employs 9 labourers. By the 1881 census, there are just 16 agricultural labourers in the whole of the village.

Throughout the early years of the 20^th century, many young people from rural communities emigrated to the colonies such as Canada or Australia to try their hand at agricultural work far from home. Whilst I have not been able to discover how many pioneering young men or woman left the villages of West Berkshire in this way, it has to be likely that some, at least, would have done so.

The twentieth century witnessed two world wars during which thousands of agricultural workers from all over the country enlisted in the armed forces. To make up the short fall in manpower, thousands of young women joined the Women’s Land Army and were posted to rural areas throughout the UK. In July of 1918 the Reading Standard featured on its front page photographs of some of these women at work on Berkshire farms under the bold sub-headings:

THEY MILK THE COWS

AND FEED THE PIGS

AND TRUSS THE LOADS OF HAY

most probably to the cynical and wry amusement of those rural woman who had been undertaking farm work for decades.

The 1939 Register lists 24 people engaged in agriculture in West Woodhay although it is difficult to draw an exact comparison with numbers of agricultural workers at the time of the nineteenth century censuses in part due to changing definitions of occupation. However it is true to say that the village had remained a predominantly agricultural community.

It is now over 200 years since West Woodhay Common was enclosed and 195 years since the Swing Riots. Although the associated violence is now very much in the past, the farm lands of West Woodhay still reflect the changing agricultural practices and the need for farming to respond to changing times.

For the second part of this post we are grateful to Harry Henderson whose family owns and runs West Woodhay Farms, an estate on the Berkshire/Hampshire border.

West Woodhay church: Matthew Prior via Creative Commons

Farming for the Future: Soil, Sustainability, and Success at West Woodhay

Harry Henderson

The estate spans 830 hectares of challenging land with fragile soils. Since 2008, a regenerative agricultural policy has been in place, with a focus on prioritizing soil health. The estate now follows a crop rotation system that includes herbal grass leys, flower meadows, wild bird feed areas, and very low-input cereals.

Agricultural chemicals and fertilizers have been replaced with more sustainable cultural methods. As a result, there has been a significant increase in soil biology, leading to enhanced organic matter levels and improved carbon capture.

The shift in farming practices—driven by soil health—has led to remarkable nature recovery. The planting of herbal leys and wildflower plots has created a thriving environment for insect life. Since adopting a no-insecticide policy in 2014, West Woodhay has seen a resurgence of beneficial insects such as spiders, beetles, and parasitic wasps. This has enabled the successful establishment of flea beetle-sensitive crops like stubble turnips.

The rise in insect populations has also benefited birdlife, which is supported further through the planting of wild bird plots for the leaner months. All this recovery work has been monitored and independently audited over many years, and the data clearly shows a strong link between soil health and biodiversity.

In-depth soil analyses have shown that, given time and the absence of soil disturbance, soil indices can begin to rebalance naturally, making primary nutrients more available to crops. This reinforces the estate’s approach of minimal intervention and maximum biological support.

A large sheep flock has been used to manage the land and maintain productivity. The breed of choice is the Welsh Cheviot, native to the Brecon Beacons. With West Woodhay’s highest point reaching 900 feet, this hardy breed is ideally suited to the challenging upland climate. Their thick, dense fleece protects them from January’s easterly winds and rain.

Lambing begins in late March, with all ewes lambing outdoors in a natural environment, giving mothers plenty of space and time to bond with their lambs. During the summer months, the flock grazes on the herbal leys, enriching the soil’s biodiversity. After weaning in early autumn, they are moved to higher ground to help manage the fragile downland ecosystem.

The estate’s latest and most exciting initiative is the production of cereal crops for human consumption, grown with little or no artificial fertilizers or pesticides. These crops are established using zero-tillage methods. By using legumes to naturally supply nutrients for fast-growing spring cereals, West Woodhay has successfully tapped into new opportunities through Wildfarmed contracts.

Importantly, the farming enterprise has remained consistently profitable. Without profit, nature recovery would be difficult to sustain. Savings on fertilizers, agrochemicals, fuel, finance, and labour have helped support this transition. The increase in soil organic matter has broadened the estate’s cropping options, helping to future-proof the farm for the next generation.

Charles Morton: A casualty of the Boer War

As you walk through Kintbury church yard toward the gate at the top of the path leading to the canal, pause a while to read the inscription on a stone to your right.

As you walk through Kintbury church yard toward the gate at the top of the path leading to the canal, pause a while to read the inscription on a stone to your right. The name at the top of this particular stone is that of George Morton who died on November 24^th, 1885 aged 53. There is nothing particularly unusual about that – however, read on. The inscription below reads:

Also of Charles, son of the above who was killed in action at Vlakfontein, South Africa on Feb 8^th, 1901 aged 23 years.

Charles Morton had been killed during the 2^nd Boer War, a conflict fought from 1899 to 1902 between Britain and the South African Republic & the Orange Free State. At that time, it would have been very unusual for a soldier’s body to be returned to his homeland and closer reading of the grave’s inscription reveals that it does not say, “Here lies…”. So this gravestone commemorated Charles but does not mark his resting place.

I have tried to find out more about Charles Morton and his family. However, as so often happens when researching local history, my searching has raised far more questions than it has answered.

Many people wrongly believe that, in years gone by, poorer families rarely ever moved far from their places of birth. Anyone who has spent time studying family history will know this is not necessarily always the case.

Charles’ father, George, named on the gravestone, was born in Daventry, Northamptonshire in 1832 where his father, William Morton, was an innkeeper. By 1851, the Morton family had left Northamptonshire for Fulham where William – presumably embracing new opportunities – was working as a conductor on a horse-drawn omnibus.

I can find no trace of William or George Morton on the 1861 or 1871 censuses but in 1881 George turns up again, far away from the increasingly urbanised streets of Middlesex where he had lived as a child. George is now married to Ellen and they are living in West Ilsley, with their three children: Frederick, who is seven, Charles, two and a baby daughter. George is working as a groom in a racing stables.

At some point in the following ten years, however, the family experienced many changes because by the census of 1891, Charles is living in Kintbury with his mother and stepfather Edward Brooks, a labourer. According to the inscription on the gravestone I mentioned earlier, Charles’ father, George Morton had died on November 24^th, 1885.

Like his father before him, Charles took up work as a groom and by the 1901 census he is living in lodgings in Crowthorne, although there is no clue as to what took the young man to work as a “groom domestic” in east Berkshire when similar work would have been available nearer home.

However, by the following year, Charles was even farther away from his mother’s home in Kintbury. As the gravestone tells us, on 8^th February 1902, Charles was killed on active service in South Africa.

The inscription on the stone says that Charles died on active service in Vlakfontein, which is in the Mpumalanga Province of South Africa – the site of guerrilla fighting during the Boer War. However, the Victorian Society says that Charles was a member of the South African Constabulary who was killed at Syferfontein, also in Mpumalanga Province. It is impossible to say which is correct; the Victorian Society and the gravestone both have February 2^nd as the date of death. To confuse matters further, the Forces War Records list two other Charles Mortons killed in South Africa in 1902.

As research has shown, neither Charles’ father nor his step-father were wealthy or in relatively high-status occupations. Many poorer and even middle-income people at the time were buried without gravestones. That George Morton – whose last known occupation was as a groom – should have a gravestone is, I believe, quite unusual for someone of his background at that time.

All this leads me to wonder this: Did someone with the means to have a gravestone erected in Kintbury want to commemorate a young man from the village killed abroad? Whilst some of the great and the good who saw active service are commemorated on the walls inside the church, it was never the custom to put up a plaque to the lower ranks who died in the military. As I have commented above, men of the status of George Morton were very unlikely to have a marked grave. However, by erecting a stone for him, the name of his son Charles could be added below, even though the plot in Kintbury was not his final resting place.

Perhaps someone with the wherewithal to afford a gravestone knew that some seventy years earlier, the Rev Fulwar Craven Fowle had erected a gravestone to working man, William Winterbourne. Perhaps that person felt inspired to do something similar. Perhaps that person was a former soldier. We shall probably never know unless these details are recorded somewhere in the parish records held by the diocese. It would be an interesting search to find out.

I have not been able to find a record of Charles Morton having a Commonwealth War Graves Commission burial in South Africa but it is, of course, pleasing to know that he is remembered in our churchyard.

Thomas Hardy’s poem, Drummer Hodge, written in 1899, was his response to news of the death of young country men, killed, like Charles Morton, in the Boer War:

They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest
     Uncoffined—just as found:
His landmark is a kopje-crest
     That breaks the veldt around;
And foreign constellations west
     Each night above his mound.

Young Hodge the Drummer never knew—
     Fresh from his Wessex home—
The meaning of the broad Karoo,
     The Bush, the dusty loam,
And why uprose to nightly view
     Strange stars amid the gloam.

Yet portion of that unknown plain
     Will Hodge for ever be;
His homely Northern breast and brain
     Grow up a Southern tree,
And strange-eyed constellations reign
     His stars eternally.

Walbury: Living in an Iron Age hill fort

On the highest point on chalk in England, Walbury Hill Fort has overlooked the Kennet Valley for over two thousand years.

During the Early Iron Age, between 700 and 300 years BC, around three to four thousand hill forts were constructed throughout Britain. It is difficult to say exactly why there was an increased need for more fortified settlements but a rise in population might have led to competition for resources coupled with an emergence of powerful, local chieftains looking to defend their patch. The Iron Age people – or the Celts as they are sometimes called – are known to have been quite aggressive and defensive of their territory. Three distinct tribes occupied the central south west of England – the area often identified as Wessex – with the Durotriges in the south , the Dobunni to the west and, in our area, the Atribates.

The Iron Age Celts had no written culture themselves but instead valued the passing on of knowledge and poetry in the oral tradition. However, the Romans, who invaded Britain towards at the end of the Iron Age, had quite a lot to say – and write – about the people already living here. According to the Romans, the Celts were pale skinned and muscular. The men were fond of washing their blond hair in lime water to enhance its colour, then combing it back across their heads into spikes. Trousers and shirts of woollen cloth were dyed in bright colours and men of higher status chose to grow their moustaches so long their mouths were covered.

Metal working skills were particularly valued with decoration and ornamentation in the intricate swirling designs identified as being in the Celtic style still popular today.

Walbury was one of the earlier hill forts to be built. Constructed at a time when the only tools available were antler pick axes, shovels and wickerwork baskets, our local hill fort is trapezoid in shape and covers 82 acres or 33 hectares, making it the largest hill-fort in Berkshire. It is univallate, meaning it is surrounded by a single bank and ditch and when originally constructed the bank would have been topped with a wooden palisade. In places the top of the rampart to the bottom of the ditch measures 5 meters so the whole structure would have been quite imposing.

Although it is impossible for us to know how many men were required to construct the hill fort, or how long it would have taken, it was clearly labour intensive and very important to them. When first constructed, the bare chalk walls would have been visible for miles around and, topped with a high wooden fence, it made a statement. It announced, “This is our space – we live and defend here.”

Walbury was not alone in the landscape. From the highest point within the fort others could be seen including Fosbury near Kingsclere, Beacon Hill near Highclere and further afield Danebury near Andover and Segsbury near Wantage. Evidence of settlements and of farming have been discovered beyond the hill-top settlements and it is difficult to assess how much time would have been spent living within the defended enclosures rather than in homes clustered lower into the valleys.

Walbury was excavated in 1997 as part of the Wessex Hill Forts Project ( see link below ) but, disappointingly, a magnetometer survey failed to detect features such as post holes due to the variations in the natural geology. However, other, more successful excavations elsewhere have revealed more about hill-fort life in the Iron Age.

Professor Barry Cunliffe excavated Danebury Ring hill fort over twenty seasons in the 70s and 80s, revealing much about Iron Age hill fort life which must have applied to our local hill-fort dwellers at Walbury.

Model showing construction of Iron Age house, Museum of the Iron Age, Andover

Homes would have been round houses constructed of wood with wattle walls, one door way providing all the light inside. Agriculture was important with cattle, sheep and pigs kept not only for their meat but also milk, skins and wool. Grain, grown in fields outside the fort, would have been stored in square granaries or deep pits.

Agriculture was not the only industry: spinning and weaving, leather working, basket and hurdle making, pottery and metalworking were all of particular importance. Although life within the hill forts was pretty much self sufficient, by the first century BC, trade with the continent had increased with imports of wine, olives, figs and glass to the communities nearer the coast.

Model of Iron Age woman weaving, Museum of the Iron Age, Andover

Change was coming, however, with the arrival of the Romans in 55 BC and the following decades. Trade and collaboration with the newcomers eventually saw changes in the life style of the indigenous peoples many of whom began to adopt a more Roman way of living. Hill forts on their cold, windy ridges overlooking the valleys were eventually abandoned with many higher status Celts preferring a more Roman life style of living. Although it is now known that many Iron Age peoples continued to live as they had done for hundreds of years and quite independently of the Roman incomers, there would have been times, increasingly, when Celtic men and woman chose their partners from those more newly arrived – perhaps to family opposition or even perhaps to envy of the new, modern life style. Perhaps the inhabitants of the villa built close to the Kennet to the east of Kintbury may well have been a Romano British family who were the descendants of those people who had originally lived in the Walbury hill fort.

When, I wonder, was the very last time that an older family member looked towards Walbury and said to children or grandchildren,

“See that place on the hill? That was where our people used to live. That was our place!”

References and sources:

The Museum of the Iron Age, Andover

UnRoman Britain: Miles Russell & Stuart Laycock

The Time Team What Happened When ed Tim Taylor

Iron Age Celts in Wessex: David Allen

https://historicengland.org.uk/images-books/publications/wessex-hillforts-project/wessexhillfortschap02p39to130

Walbury Camp, West Berkshire